


stridery echoes in an unceasing cacophony until the only answer is to scream

by LogicalParafox



Series: loving you feels like the end of the world because its literally the apocalypse [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27772690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicalParafox/pseuds/LogicalParafox
Summary: Dave has joined the academy, but will he be able to find someone he can drift with in order to become a full-fledge pilot?
Relationships: Dave Strider/Dirk Strider
Series: loving you feels like the end of the world because its literally the apocalypse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003983
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	stridery echoes in an unceasing cacophony until the only answer is to scream

**Author's Note:**

  * For [actinide](https://archiveofourown.org/users/actinide/gifts).



Drift compatibility, the near-impossible meeting of two minds, the ultimate in intimacy, the absolute bare minimum for any Jaeger pilot.

Siblings were preferred by the corp, twins especially. People with enough similarities in their background that the shapes of their minds could mesh together seamlessly, and in that unity, the jaeger’s found life, the neural load shared between this single mind across two bodies.

Dave could barely admit to himself that finding someone he was drift compatible with had become his new goal.

Fighting kaiju, defending humanity, becoming a hero, all of those were still important, but finding someone who could understand him inside and out… Terrifying. Unbelievable. Immeasurably appealing.

The intake at the academy included several promising unpaired potential pilots. The PPDC desperate enough to find the lightning in a bottle that could animate the massive constructs that they grasped at any chance. Even twins often failed to find that necessary state, let alone hold it under pressure and in a combat scenario. They were willing to give most anything a try.

* * *

After some disastrous and fatal burnouts among the first generation of pilots, the newer recruits underwent a far more intensive training regiment.

Though they learned the theory backwards and forwards, they weren’t introduced to a proper Pons until the second year, and even then the training sessions were brief and extremely limited, with the academy instructors attempting to read the tea leaves of the various readings to see which of these matches could lead to a viable headspace.

* * *

The Kwoon Combat Room became a much needed escape with the benefit of conferring at least some hope of sparking signs of drift compatibility as the trainees sparred with one another, their styles ranging from all out brawl to something more akin to a choreographed dance on the spectrum of spontaneity.

Dave found he preferred the calm predictability of the more regimented and choreographed end of things, following combat patterns drilled into them daily of attack and block and controlled tumble, the clacking of the staffs providing a background rhythm that proved very restful and meditative.

Sometimes in the midst of that, he felt a little like what the instructors described as the drift, all calm and open, the constant chatter of his mind quieting for probably the first time in his life. It was fleeting and wonderful and if he could feel like that all the time, he would absolutely do so.

* * *

The Pons they brought in for the students was a far cry from the custom suits and interfaces built custom for the pilots.

The interface clamped onto the back of the neck, with adjustable straps and buckles to fit it to each person. Practical, but inelegant. Dave’s anxiety over the coming test crashed into a sudden fear that it would mess up his hair and he would find someone he was drift compatible with while looking like a mess and that they would also know… Dave cursed his pale skin as he felt his cheeks redden, sure that every one of his year mates knew how shallow his initial fears had been…. or at least they would soon.

The instructors called out the first two names while white coated scientists and technicians swarmed around, adjusting straps and dials and finally powering up the neural link. Dave watched, eyes flicking from classmate to classmate as they both went still, eyes closed. The rest sat in the bleachers, waiting for their names to be called.

The instructors had told them that they had several potential matches for each student based upon their performance and personality and background.

Dave snuck looks at the rest of the recruits sitting on the bleachers, all as riveted on the pair hooked into the Pons. This was the ultimate test: without a drift compatible partner, piloting a jaeger was impossible.

Dave knit his fingers together and went as still as he could, only allowing his toes to drum inside of his polished shoes where no one could see.

* * *

The first pair failed to establish a connection and more names were called.

Even those who managed to achieve a neural handshake remained in the room to see if they would have a stronger connection with another of their potential partners.

Dave clenched and unclenched his jaw, toes drumming back and forth as he focused hard on breathing evenly. More than half of his classmates had been called up at least once, some as many as three times. Most had failed thus far and he couldn’t help but update the mental scoreboard, pondering how he would pair up with those who seemed the most open to the neural handshake, but it probably wasn’t something where there was any one person in class who could drift with everyone… and that person certainly wasn’t him. Did he even have anyone in class on his list? Why hadn’t his name been called yet?

“Dave. Mr. Strider.”

A calloused hand touched the back of his neck, jolting him into the here and now where his memory helpfully informed him that his name had been called several times as he stared at nothing, his mind focused on the grid in his thoughts.

Dave shied away from the touch, looking up… and then further up as one of his classmates raised an eyebrow. “We’re up, you coming?”

Dave bolted to his feet, thrusting his trembling hands into his pockets as he trailed her down the stairs and to the empty seats. She beat him down and took the seat on the right and he took the subordinate position, taking off his glasses and trying to keep from twitching as straps were fastened at throat and forehead, the metal against his skin warm from the power running through it and from being in contact with so many warm recruits no doubt. No, best not to think about cleanliness, Dave. You’ve seen their thorough cleaning procedures between each group. It’s fine. They’re professionals.

Dave closed his eyes, trying to reach that calm state they were informed was key to accepting a neural handshake and finding someone in the drift.

He could do this. He wouldn’t follow the rabbit.

The large machine between himself and his classmate hummed into a higher gear and Dave felt like he was floating, his mind expanding as the Pons came online, memories flickering before his eyes as the thoughts flashed into life around him.

Abruptly he could feel her, Maryam’s thoughts were… calm. Orderly. Neat. His own mind was a roiling maelstrom by comparison and he shrank back from such intimate contact, not wanting her to see some of the memories that swirled around him.

Dave could feel her… and realized that despite all of his preparations he couldn’t let his mind touch her. She would be swamped, repulsed, possibly damaged. His mind was chaos and taint.

After a few minutes they unbuckled them both, noting calmly that no link had been established. Maryam gave him an odd look as he returned to his seat, his face locked in an expressionless mask.

So much preparation, so much research, so much hard work. Was he really going to flush it all away because the thought of actually forming a connection to another human was more than he could bear? He’d been so sure she could handle this…

Dave shouted at himself, demanding that he face the music and grow a pair. He was being a coward, a fool, he was throwing his one shot at this away because he couldn’t get out of his own head enough to let someone else into it.

Why did he think he could do this? He rarely even smiled because even that was too much shared intimacy, what had possessed him to think he could share his thoughts.

* * *

He was called forward several more times, each time trying to force himself to open up and each time his mind instinctively recoiled, the attempts growing shorter as he huddled in his own head, hating himself, his anxiety dulling into a deadening surety that this was his last day here. There was no way he could be drift compatible with anyone, no way that he could share his headspace with another human person. All his hopes and fears and training and he was giving up at the first real test. He deserved to be kicked out if he couldn’t do this, this baseline of piloting. The more surprising thing was that he’d ever believed this might go a different way? He knew what he was. He had been a fool to get his hopes up, to even try.

Dave stopped keeping track of who else was called, rousing himself enough to hear when new names were called to be sure he wasn’t being asked to fail again just yet but beyond that he retreated inward, trying to shout down his own insecurities and spiraling deeper and deeper into bleak surety that he had failed, as he had failed in all things.

* * *

He was deep enough into himself that he didn’t hear who his partner was, just rose automatically and walked stiffly to the Pons. The right seat was taken again so he took the subordinate position, no longer twitching or anxious as the sensors were buckled around himself. Time to fail again.

“Dave? Look at me.”

Dave blinked, turning his head despite the technician’s annoyed huff to look across the machinery, red gaze meeting orange. Dirk. Dirk who people had thought he must be related to as they shared a similar face and coloring and background and last name even though the PPDC could find no connection in their lineage.

Dirk raised an eyebrow. “Breathe, dude, you look like you’re about to throw up. I’ll see you in there.”

Dave blinked, but automatically inhaled, filling his lungs with air.

Dirk turned away, closing his eyes and relaxing. Dave couldn’t look away, even as the machinery began to hum and his mind opened up under the influence of the Pons.

* * *

Dave didn’t have a chance to recoil and hide behind shields. Dirk was there with him, within the dark swirl of his own insecurities, his long-fingered hand grabbing Dave’s. Dave grabbed him back before he could think better of it and…

Jumping off a cliff into an ocean, the impact and sudden cold shocking and exhilarating…

music pounding in headphones, heavy beats and harmonizing lyrics blending together…

the satisfaction of a stitch set just right and knowing the piece was coming together exactly as planned…

falling asleep watching a movie, the steady thrum of the fan in the window doing little to combat the stifling summer heat…

staring into a mirror and seeing…

Dave startled, realizing he had been caught up in Dirk’s memories, each of them touching his and melding.

i thought i told you to breathe?

Dave inhaled, lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, the wash of it more refreshing than that plunge into a lake that Dirk remembered. That he remembered. Summer’s spent in the water to avoid the stifling heat and humidity, slathering themselves with sunscreen to keep their pale skin from burning, adding steadily more freckles.

thats it, good you know you need to let go a little dave your past is your past whats important now is our present... our future

Dirk brought memories of devastated cities to their mind and Dave focused on them, remembering his desire to fight those things, to protect humanity.

Dirk laughed in his body and Dave could feel Dirk’s shoulder’s shake, feel the slightly longer arms, a similar chagrin of a ruined hairstyle, Dirk’s even more mussed by the Pons headset than Dave’s own.

Dave remembered that he had a comb and gel in his bag and offered them to Dirk, could feel Dirk’s shoulders move again in a shrug.

thanks. itll only get mussed again until were done but afterward definitely

Dave wasn’t sure how to give Dirk words yet and he felt Dirk’s reassurance.

if you hadnt been so determined to burn alive in the fires of your self imposed failure you might have been able to pick up these tricks too

Dave huffed, and then the oneness began to fade, the background hum he had forgotten was there ebbing and fading and shutting off.

* * *

The headset was being removed and the instructors were chattering happily about a completed handshake and a drift with communication. Dave ignored them for once, looking over at Dirk, whose hair was more flattened and mussed by the recent treatment. Dirk raised his eyebrows when he saw Dave looking and Dave realized they hadn’t lost the drift yet.

yours is worse I was wrong

Dave could see himself through Dirk’s eyes, his dreaded cowlick curling up from the straps and headset.

Dave sighed and used Dirk’s vision to smooth his own hair back down, then blinked, losing that bridge.

They were sent back to their seats as the tests continued despite his revelation.

He could feel that bond now, like a string between two empty cans, a taut connection that he could shout down if he chose.

no need for shouting

we did it

were DOING it... theres a difference

but well advance well get a jaeger

of course we are gonna win this war save humanity and kick some kaiju butt

hell yeah

and dave?

yes dirk?

if you dont want everyone to see that youre tearing up, get those shades back on

Dave fumbled them out of his pocket and slid them onto his nose, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth as relief washed away the choking terror.

ive got you, we can do this

we WILL do this

yes


End file.
